


Things We Can't Untie: Or, Gay Perry and Gay Harry and the Gay Jewels of Nabooti

by eggshellseas



Category: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005)
Genre: M/M, POV First Person, Yuletide 2007, salty language including a couple canon-compliant homophobic slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 06:26:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggshellseas/pseuds/eggshellseas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Is that drink really bright pink? Are you really that gay?" Harry embarks on a clumsy attempt at seduction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things We Can't Untie: Or, Gay Perry and Gay Harry and the Gay Jewels of Nabooti

So there we were - tied back-to-back on either side of a pole in an abandoned warehouse while the fire licked its way closer. The heiress we were supposed to save was miles away in the back of a van.

"How far away is it now?" I asked (not for the first time), wildly trying to turn my head enough to look.

"Shut up," Perry ordered, also not for the first time, which, in my opinion, wasn't very fair. If a man is about to die a horrible fiery death, it's only natural that he might panic a little. Still, I took a deep breath and tried to come to terms with my imminent demise.

My eyes closed, I groped for his hand, but ended up clutching the bottom of his jacket. "If this is it, I want you to know that-"

"Don't say it."

"What do you mean 'don't say it'? You don't even know what I'm going to say."

"This isn't the time for talking," Perry said in that seething way he has of gritting the words out through his teeth.

"Look, I just want to tell you what you mean to me before I go way, way before my prime."

I sensed that Perry was not touched by my sentiment when he managed to jerk his arms back enough to elbow me in the ribs. "When we get out of this," he said, "you can show me what I mean to you by sucking my cock."

I didn't really have a retort to this. It seemed like a reasonable enough request.

Wait, I guess I should go back. Yes, Perry and I are sleeping together now. You can't honestly say you're that surprised, can you?

Sorry if that's kind of anticlimactic, but this story isn't about how we realized our forbidden love for one another, came together passionately, and then lived happily ever after having loads of gay sex. I mean, it's an element, but that's not all there is to it, Come on, I'm not starring in _Rimmerama_ , here. I don't own that movie by the way.

This is an exciting story about Perry and me solving crimes and rescuing damsels and defeating bad guys. We're all going to learn a little about ourselves, there's going to be some laughs, some tears, yadda, yadda, etcetera.

Oh, what's that? You really want to hear about how Perry and I hooked up? Look, I promise you it's not going to be as thrilling as the kidnapping case I was planning on telling you about. There were missing girls, dead dogs, drug mules, Perry doing an impersonation of Jayne Mansfield - the works.

Okay, okay, Jesus! You'd think you could just let the narrator tell his story, but no, you seem to think this is _Choose Your Own Adventure: Gay Perry and Gay Harry and the Gay Jewels of Nabooti_ or some shit like that.

So how it happened was Perry and I were on another boring stakeout. Perry had brought me along because I guess he had me on some kind of suicide watch. He probably wanted to make sure I didn't paint his walls with my brains and mess up his house while he was out.

The reason why I was on suicide watch was that Harmony left. Yeah, she finally got her big break - the title role in an hour-long dramedy on network television. You've probably seen it. She's very charming. Anyway, it films in Vancouver and she'd headed across the border with a 'thanks for all the laughs,' and a promise to stay in touch.

So I'd been moping around for a while, you know, sitting at the desk all day drinking whiskey and looking up airfare to Vancouver. It was getting pretty bad. Perry took pity on me for about .2 seconds and then started threatening to fire me and throw me out on the street.

Oh yeah, I live with Perry too. I guess that's an important detail. Although, to be honest, I think this is something I shouldn't have to tell you. Some things you ought to be able to deduce for yourself. Like before when I said Perry 'didn't want me messing up his house while he was out,' did you think I was implying I'd break into his house for the sole purpose of ending my life?

He was really against letting me crash with him at first, but I promised I wouldn't make any messes and that he would hardly know I was there and so on and he eventually caved. I think even back then he liked me more than he wanted to admit, but maybe I'm reading too much into it. Anyway, it works pretty well: I do some cooking, he has a maid service. Yeah, it's cute, whatever.

Shit, I keep getting sidetracked. Sorry. You're probably thinking, 'Harry, what is with your inability to follow a linear timeline?' Where was I? Oh, so Harmony became the one that got away twice and Perry brought me on a stakeout.

It was the typical wife suspects her husband of cheating case, which meant it was really boring and mostly we just had a lot of time to kill before we could catch the guy doing it with another woman. Like any good case, though, it did have a slight twist: the 'other woman,' as we discovered, was in fact a man.

So we were parked on the side of the street, sitting in Perry's car while we waited for the guy and his friend to come out of their hotel room so Perry could snap some incriminating photos. Perry told me quite firmly that if I broke the binoculars or any of the cameras it was coming out of my paycheck.

"I can't wait to out this pathetic little shit to his wife," Perry said gleefully. Perry has some issues. I guess being known as 'Gay Perry' would make me an angry gay man too.

I asked him if maybe he wasn't being a little too hard on the guy. "It's not easy to come to terms with things like that. He's got a wife and kids," I said, thinking guiltily about how lately I was thinking less and less about Harmony and more and more about Perry.

Perry quite emphatically disagreed with me. "This isn't the 1950s," Perry snapped. "Come the fuck out of the closet!"

Okay, so maybe in hindsight it was jumping to conclusions to think that Perry was maybe kind of trying to send me some sort of subliminal message. And maybe, hindsight being 20-20, kissing him right then wasn't the best idea I've ever had (it's not the worst either, not by a long shot. Let me tell you, there have been some doozies).

Ignoring all of that, I did it anyway. Kiss him, I mean. It was pretty bad. My nose just kind of smashed into his face and our dry lips pressed together with nothing that resembled chemistry.

Perry smacked the back of my head when I pulled away sheepishly. "Where, in your tiny reptilian brain did you come to the conclusion that that was a good idea?" He screeched, and of course in the ensuing squabble the guy we were tailing got away and of course I got blamed even though Perry was the one who lost his cool and threw a big gay hissy fit.

So cut to us back at home: I was sitting on the sofa and Perry was pacing back and forth across the living room. Suddenly he stopped and pointed at me. "Get your shoes off the coffee table," he said, which seemed like quite the derailment.

"Perry," I said, with what I hoped was gravitas. "There's something I should tell you." In my head, I hastily ran through the possible ways of properly expressing my feelings: I think you're pretty hot, in a gay way; you make me happy in my pants. "I'm attracted to you," I blurted out. It seemed a relatively safe.

"I hate straight guys," Perry muttered, rubbing his temples.

"What I'm trying to tell you is that I am perhaps not straight. Not completely straight. Somewhere below one hundred percent." Yeah, I was babbling.

"Harry," Perry snapped, stepping forward and clapping a hand firmly over my lips. "Idiot. I've had enough jocks play the 'questioning their sexuality' card in order to get a blowjob. I clearly should not have told you that I have a mouth like a Hoover."

What Perry was referring to was that he sometimes referenced his superior blowjob-giving skills just to make me uncomfortable, which it did, but probably not in the way he intended. Rather than leaving me wracked with dry heaves, it just forced me to think about Perry on his knees, my cock in his mouth and his eyes glinting wickedly up at me. Nice image, I know; I've taken the time to perfect it.

"Sometimes I would think about Mick Jagger when I was jacking off, you know, when I was young. That probably means something."

Perry stared at me, gaping like a fish. "I need a drink. Or ten."

"I really think we need to talk about this, Perry," I said, trailing after him like a puppy. An endearing, irresistible puppy, I hoped.

Perry turned suddenly and jabbed his finger into my chest. I tried to hide my wince. "Okay, you've suddenly gone off your fucking rocker! There, we've discussed it!" As soon as he turned around again I rubbed the sore spot on my chest gingerly. "I do not have the time or the patience to deal with your midlife sexual identity crisis," he continued.

I took offense to the 'midlife', but I sensed that deviating from the matter at hand would not get me the results I wanted. "You know, Perry, I've noticed that you haven't been seeing as many guys lately. I don't think you've mentioned being involved with anyone since I moved in."

Perry looked like he wanted to disembowel me, which is how he usually looked, only a little angrier. "I sincerely hope you're not trying to say what I think you're trying to say in your mentally deficient, roundabout way."

"I'm just saying that I think you're interested too, and maybe you're a little scared of your feelings."

Perry gave a short, kind of manic laugh as he poured himself a tumbler of whiskey. "Yes, Harry, it's true," he said. "No one satisfies me anymore. I can't even get it up unless I think about your luscious lips and your rock hard body."

I stopped and smiled, pleased with the progress we were making. "Really?" I asked, preening a little.

"No!" Perry shouted at me and downed his whiskey in one long gulp.

"You could tell me," I wheedled. "It's all right."

He stepped very close to me. I always forget how physically intimidating Perry is until he gets really angry. His face was red and he was shaking and he looked like he wasn't sure how best to go about killing me. He took a deep breath, though, and then said very calmly, "You are annoying and insane."

"Hey, I'm a lot less neurotic than I used to be. I don't steal things anymore."

"You stole all of my pens last week! Do you know how annoying it is to keep buying pens? Those pens are in that desk for work. What do you do with all those fucking pens anyway?"

I sensed Perry was not taking this seriously. He had that look on his face that meant he was starting to feel bad about being a dick. I just stared at him, trying to will him to give in with my mind. I don't know; it seemed like a good plan. Perry just looked kind of uncomfortable and not at all like my hypnosis was working. "Fuck, Harry," he said, "you're just being stupid. Let's drop it, okay?"

Okay, so I've never really been the heartthrob, or the guy that gets the girl, or, in this case, the gay private detective. I've always had to work at winning people over, and I could tell that Perry wasn't giving me a flat-out rejection. If I know one thing, it's that persistence pays off, unless it leads to restraining orders or some girl's dad beating the crap out of you. Anyway, that's my advice. Feel free to take a minute to write it down.

That weekend I put my carefully honed detective skills to work and followed Perry to a gay bar. I don't know what I expected, go-go boys and orgies, or something like that, but it was just a quiet, upscale bar. I felt a little bit of doubt looking at the LA gays. They were all tan and buff and well-coiffed, like a bunch of Ken dolls. I scowled at a few that gave me dirty looks.

Perry was at the opposite end of the bar chatting up some preppie looking guy. I wanted some liquid courage, but the bartender wouldn't even look at me. I mean what the fuck, just because I looked kind of scruffy and wasn't wearing designer clothes? The way I saw it, I was going to be saving Perry from this world.

I walked up to them. Perry saw me a second before I was at his side and he visibly cringed. "Yes, Harry?" he said wearily. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, reaching up to chuck him lightly on the chin.

"Hey, Per," I said in a sing-song voice. "How's it going?" Perry growled a little. I think he was trying to scare me, but it was kind of sexy. Don't get me wrong, I was terrified. Perry, after all, carries a gun, but my gut kept telling me that I was right, that Perry and I were right, and yes, I know what you're thinking: 'Harry, haven't you had that feeling about other people?' Well, fuck you. That's my answer to that.

The other guy's nose wrinkled. "Is this your boyfriend?" he asked in a tone that I did not appreciate. I gave him the evil eye, tightening my grip on Perry.

"Hey, Tinkerbell, why don't you just buzz off, okay?" I hissed. "He's taken." Perry started shaking with silent laughter. The guy looked only too glad to get away from what I assume he thought was going to be a massive queen out.

"So," Perry said, sipping a cocktail. He was a lot calmer than I thought he'd be. "Is this you making a grand, yet ultimately idiotic gesture to impress me?" He was smiling at me in a way that suggested perhaps he was flirting.

"Did it work?" I asked, trying to mimic his tone. "Maybe just a little?" Perry shook his head, not in disagreement, but just in a, 'Harry, you are hopeless. What am I to do with you?' sort of way. "Is that?" I started, reaching out to grasp his wrist. "Is that drink actually bright pink? Are you really that gay?" Perry chuckled and neither jerked his arm away nor dumped his drink on me. I knew I was in.

"You're serious about this?" Perry sighed after a moment. I nodded. "And you're not going to give up." I nodded again. "So I should just surrender?"

"That's about the size of it, yeah."

He completely surprised me then by taking my face in his hands and kissing me and whatever doubts I had about chemistry or sexual incompatibility flew out the window. It was nothing like the two kisses we'd already shared, not that those count at all, but it was good and warm and deep and all the other things a kiss should be.

I winked at the other guy who was already busy hitting on someone else and put my hand on Perry's ass when we left. "Oh," Perry cooed in a campy falsetto, "cheeky."

We kissed again when we got to Perry's car and I took the time to familiarize myself with all the best ways to hang on to him. Suddenly, Perry pulled away. "What did you do, follow me in a fucking cab?"

"Yeah," I said sheepishly. "It took me forever to convince the driver that I wasn't mixing him up in any major crimes. I took a twenty off your dresser for it, by the way." Perry's hands clenched threateningly around my biceps. "It sat there for a week!" I yelped. "I counted!"

"And this is what I'm willfully getting myself into," Perry harrumphed. Then he grinned, "Pun intended."

A long string of pornographic images flashed through my head. "I think it's a good time to be getting home," I said, pulling on the door handle until Perry unlocked the car, smirking knowingly.

This is the part where the gay sex goes. I'll leave it to your imagination. I don't want to ruin your fantasies with reality. I'm sure Perry's had a lot better. I mean, for starters I bet most guys he's slept with had all ten fingers. Not that I suck or anything, I think I did pretty well. Just know that it was kind of clumsy, kind of messy, but all around pretty fucking satisfying.

Perry was hanging over my shoulder while I wrote this, by the way. He kept asking me why I wasn't describing his 'throbbing manhood' or his 'pulsating member.' He also told me I typed like a monkey and that I was intensely creepy for writing this all out.

Let's pick up again after all the sweaty stuff - we were lying on Perry's bed, and I, not exactly being in peak physical condition, was still trying to catch my breath. "You okay?" Perry said doubtfully. "You're not having a gay panic or anything are you?"

"Perry," I said, perhaps too seriously because he huffed and started moving towards the edge of the bed.

"Shit. You are freaking out. I knew this would happen. I am too old to deal with this bullshit," on and on; blah, blah, blah.

I cut him off. "Are you going to drop me for something better after a few shots?"

"What?" Perry choked incredulously.

"You know, like your faggot gun."

I think it was the only time I ever saw Perry truly speechless. "You want to go steady?" he finally said in a smarmy tone. "I'll wear your pin, Harry." He was laughing by then, winding his arms around my waist. "We can get promise rings."

"Fuck you," I said and punched his arm.

"Look," he said, patting me awkwardly on the back. "We'll see how things go. I'm not just going to drop you." He leaned down and looked me straight in the eye. "Okay?" I nodded. "Good," Perry said, "Now get out."

"Hey!" I squealed.

"You're not sleeping over on the first date." He told me, getting settled under the blankets. "Go back to your foldout couch."

So there you have it. I know it's not earth shattering stuff, but you asked for it. I hope you're happy with yourself. And I'm not going to lie and say everything was peachy from there on out. Perry is still mean to me and I still drive him up the wall. We have our fair share of arguments. He does let me sleep in his bed now, though, but I still can't drive his car. I guess all things considered things are pretty good. Anyway, I'm Harry Lockhart and I hope you've enjoyed the gay sequel to that one movie that nobody saw. Now go buy the DVD. I'm going to have more gay sex.


End file.
